WORDS

by Danna Shirley

Authors create comedy, drama, and romance with the written WORD.

Actors take those WORDS and bring to life the emotions of laughter, tears, and love in the human heart.

WORDS are powerful and record the very voice of our fears, our hopes, our dreams… our very humanity.

So be careful with your WORDS "For, whoever would love life and see good days must keep [his] tongue from evil and [his] lips from deceitful speech."  (1 Peter 3:10)

WHEN HOME LEFT MY DAUGHTER

Danna Shirley

            I guess the usual process of a child’s progression to maturity is to be born into a family, attend school, graduate, and leave home for college. For my daughter, however, it was just the opposite. She didn’t leave home . . . home left her!

            Kristen’s best friends were Kristy Reynolds and Dana Lyons. Kristy was an only child and Dana the middle child of three. Kristen was like the sister Kristy never had and like a daughter to her parents, Terry and Anna Reynolds. There were lots of sleepovers and shared experiences as these three were growing up. Even when Kristen married, she had co-maids of honor, Kristy and Dana, because she couldn’t choose between them. 

            After graduation from Vancleave High School in 1989, Kristen remained at home while she attended our local junior college for two years. Just as she was planning her next move our family made its next move . . . to Japan. My husband Ron had been offered a great opportunity with his company and we decided a two-year term overseas would not interfere with Kristen’s plans to move into the dorm at the University of Southern Mississippi in Hattiesburg. When she was between semesters and on Christmas break, she would join us in Japan. What none of us considered, however, were her empty weekends? Hattiesburg was just ninety minutes away but she would have no place to come home to between Friday afternoon and Sunday evening.

            When Terry and Anna heard that she would be staying in the dorm 24/7, they quickly came to our rescue. They had already been treating her has a second daughter for some time so it was no jump at all to invite her to their home for weekends. She had her own bedroom and key and came and went as she pleased. Not only did they adopt her but the entire Reynolds family became hers, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, all of them regarded her as family.   

            When Ron had a two-week stay in Hawaii for sea trials during Christmas of 1993, my sons Russ and Aaron, and I tagged along from Japan and Kristen and Kristy flew over from Mississippi and met us. It was a special treat for both the girls and for the whole family as well. While Ron worked, we played and when he was able, he joined us. We took the girls parasailing, the boys rode ski-doos, and of course there was the inevitable luau. It was a memorable trip for us all.

          Ron and I were so grateful for the Reynolds’ care of our daughter because our two years in Japan stretched into five. We never worried that Kristen was alone or lonely for she was well loved. Even today, she considers Terry and Anna as her second father and mother. They sat in the front pew, bride’s side, at her wedding right along with Ron and me. They receive cards, calls, e-mails, and pictures of the grandgirls, Emma and Bella, just as I do. Home may have left our daughter but she found a new one in Gautier, Mississippi.

WHAT IF WE COULDN’T CRY?

Danna Shirley

That is a good question.  It happened to me.  I had been going through the usual hot flashes for several years when suddenly an overflow of tears was added to the mix.  I cried at the oddest times over absolutely nothing.  This went on for a few months until I pulled into my garage one afternoon, sat and gripped the steering wheel, and sobbed uncontrollably.  I finally called my daughter and confessed my emotional upheaval.  “Honey, I can’t live like this! I guess I should go see a doctor.”

The appointment was made.  Dr. Crenshaw listened to me through tears and then did the blood work.  I was in the throes of menopause.  Duh!!!  He prescribed an anti-depressant that would help level out my emotional roller coaster.  The first pill worked wonders.  My tears dried up and I felt sane again.

I went on like this for a few weeks and then I noticed that I wasn’t crying . . . AT ALL!  Even during times that I knew I should be crying; should have some kind of emotional response.  I called my daughter again.  “Honey, I can’t live like this!”

I had talked to a friend whose father had died . . . no response.

I watched a sad movie . . . no response.

I watched a happy movie . . . no response.

All these events would have normally brought tears as I shared in the other person’s emotions but there was no response.  I hated NOT crying even worse than when I WAS crying.

I cut down the dosage of my medication.  Over a period of eight months I reduced it until I was taking only ¼ of a pill every third day, then finally discontinued it altogether.

Now I feel that I am back to normal.  I cry when it is appropriate but I’m not a basket case anymore.

Yes, tears are necessary.  They are a good thing.  A good cry is refreshing and cleanses out the emotions we sometimes hold inside.  I will always want to be able to cry.